


How to be a Paladin

by sp4ce4ge



Category: Original Fiction - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Earths, Dragons, Fantasy, High School, LGBT characters, Modern Fantasy, Multi, Swords, Wizards, fantasy politics perhaps, future gay romances, no straight romances in this house, wyrms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21541486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp4ce4ge/pseuds/sp4ce4ge
Summary: To be, or not to be. To serve in heaven, or to reign in hell. To toil away in safety, or to risk it all for a chance at escape from the eternal monotony. That is the question.As I stared down my almost certain doom, I could only think of the life I had left behind. But I had little regret.
Relationships: Original Character/Original Character





	How to be a Paladin

**Author's Note:**

> a concept i’ve been toying with for a while idk if i’ll continue it but i would like to

To be, or not to be. To serve in heaven, orto reign in hell. To toil away in safety, or to risk it all for a chance at escape from the eternal monotony. That is the question. 

As I stared down my almost certain doom, I could only think of the life I had left behind. But I had little regret. It’s better to die a hero than to live a coward. After all, a human without conviction is nothing more than one of life’s puppets. I wanted more for myself. 

But the monster I face only wants my life. I stand bloodied and unarmed in front of the golden wyrm, its scales shine like steel in the sunlight, fangs as large as daggers bared in a snarl. My sword lies buried in the dirt at least yard away. There is no time to retrieve it as the beast lunges toward me. It has only been eight months since I chose this life for myself. Easy come easy go I guess. 

* * *

The alarm pings through my head and echos around in my skull to make sure I can’t sleep through it. Trying to get up is like wading through molasses as my warm blankets call out to me in their siren song of sleep. God I hate Tuesdays. Forget Mondays, Tuesday is Monday’s evil twin that wakes you up with a baseball bat to the head telling you that yesterday might’ve been bad, but now you have to do it all over again like some hellish Groundhog Day that comes every week. 

I shove my glasses on my face and proceed to stumble my way down the stairs for breakfast and try not to fall asleep into my bowl of frosted Cheerios as my mom tries to talk to me. It’s almost an impossible feat as my brain will not be awake to process her words until noon. 

“James is coming home tomorrow so I need you to clean up some before he gets here,”

“He lived in this house for eighteen years he knows how it normally looks,” I replied, too tired to reign in my sarcasm.

“It would be very nice of you,” she said in an overly saccharine voice “if you could clean your room because your brother has moved out and we don’t see him as often. I’m sure he would appreciate the effort.”

I decided to stop arguing as it is much too early for a proper discourse, but also because my mother seems as though she has been pushed far enough this morning. Her boss could drive anyone to insanity with the way he “delegates” work. 

I throw on a hoodie and a pair of jeans and head out into the cold November wind that almost stings as it blows through my cotton armor. Luckily it’s only a 30 second walk to my dad’s car. If i tried to walk to school in this weather I would get frostbite by the time I hit main street. The streets and trees and buildings blur into the back of my mind as we drive. The fog makes the scenery even drearier as it hugs each brick and leaf with grey, only being pushed away by the neon glare of the stop lights. 

School passes as it always does and has for the past nine years. High school is only a little different from middle school and not in any way that counts. I’m only three months into freshman year and the only difference is that the teachers don’t treat us like actual criminals, only potential criminals. At least I can talk to my best friend Caitlyn Banister during english. 

“Hey, I heard your brother is coming home.” 

Unfortunately Caitlyn does have an uncomfortable crush on my older brother James.

“Where’d you hear that from, stalker,” I tease, masking my actual curiosity as she really shouldn’t know that since I haven’t told her yet.

“Oh shut up. I overheard Buckley talking about it. Apparently James is gonna do practice with the school’s soccer team now that he’s a big shot,”

Of course Travis Buckley was shouting in the hallways pretending that he was friends with the town’s soccer star.

“What a tool,” I say in a huff.

“Who? James or Buckely?”

“Yeah.”

James wasn’t so bad as older brothers go, I just hate how much he plays into everyone showing him off like he’s the town’s prize just for getting a sports scholarship to a mid rate university. Riversedge is so small the one horse it had went a left for Portland. So now whenever he comes home for the holidays it’s the talk of the town. James didn’t even come home for summer and who can blame him. He just can’t say no to people. That’s the part that bothers me. 

The PA blares out an obnoxious monotone buzz to let us know our daily suffering is over, so Caitlyn and I make our way out of school the building. Unfortunately Travis Buckley and Rebecca Stewart are waiting for us by the library entrance. 

“Hey there ladies,” Buckey starts, baiting me into correcting him, to say that I’m not a lady, that I’m nonbinary. But I’m tired, and I know Caitlyn won’t defend me in front of them, so I let it slide. The feeling of complacency fills my stomach with pounds of lead, dragging me further down.

“So James was invited to thanksgiving dinner at the town hall, he told me to make sure you got an invitation too,” he said, his tone making it clear he didn’t want me there.

“I’ll pass” I mumbled, starting to move past him and as far away as I could get.

“Oh what a shame,” Rebecca said in mockdejection, “I was really hoping to see you there,”

“Well I’m sure they didn’t mean-“ I cut Caitlyn off and grabbed her hand to pull her away from this sinking ship. I can’t even begin to see why she looks up to them. Buckley is an entitled mayor’s son and Rebecca is an even more entitled senator’s daughter. Politicians make me nauseous, the rose tinted pageantry of it all is disgusting.

As we walk outside Caitlyn gets huffy about me rejecting Buckley’s proposal. 

“It sounds fun. I wish I could get invited to something like that...” she rambled on about it as if it were Cinderella’s ball.

I would snap at her if I weren’t so tired, if I even thought I could change her mind, if it weren’t a Tuesday and I didn’t have to see her again tomorrow, if she weren’t the only friend in this school I had. So I let her waste her breath, her words blowing away in the cold November wind. 

My dad came to pick me up and I hurried into the warmth of his car. He asked me the same questions as always and I had the same answers as always.

“How was your day?”

“Alright,”

“Did you do anything fun in school?”

“No,”

“Do you have any homework?”

“Yes.”

When we got home I was ready to go back to sleep until dinner was ready. But when we got through the door that tall blond-haired blue-eyed bastard was there waiting.


End file.
